


Better Together

by writesometimes



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, But minor angst really, Fluff, M/M, Pining, naps, soft and gentle touches, they're so in love and this is so fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 18:58:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19235158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writesometimes/pseuds/writesometimes
Summary: Aziraphale looked so soft and confused, and just a little tormented under the immaculate sunset and Crowley wished he'd just spit out whatever it was he was trying to say before the stars came out and wrapped them up in the darkness together.





	Better Together

A small cloud of dust puffed up above a bookshelf. Aziraphale stared through the hazy cloud at the man who'd been stalking through his shop determinedly for the last twenty minutes. He was furiously dusting away at a his collection at the opposite end of the shop, trying very hard to appear as though he wasn't watching the man's every move. The man moved around a corner and Aziraphale took a large step sideways so he could keep an eye on him. He knew he shouldn't have opened his shop today.

After a few more moments of careful perusing, the man made a satisfied little sound and plucked a book with a worn blue leather cover from a low shelf. Aziraphale set his duster down and made his way across the shop. "Sir, that is a highly rare first edition, a collector's item. For only the most serious bibliophile. Perhaps I could interest you in a more recent copy. Or something from a different author." He clasped his hands together and smiled politely at the man.

"No, no, it's got to be this one. I'm so glad to have found it!" the man stared at the book through his thickly framed glasses and smiled excitedly.

Aziraphale took a deep breath and looked his shop over. Surely there was something else he could persuade this man to leave with.

"She'll be so excited," the man explained, beaming at Aziraphale. The angel gave him a mildly confused look. "My wife," the man went on, "It's our first wedding anniversary. This is her favorite book, ever! She will be amazed with this."

Aziraphale cleared his throat gently. "Yes, well, I do have newer copies. Perhaps she'd like a pristine, newly printed edition," he gestured over to a different bookshelf in a corner.

The man shook his head. "No, this is perfect, really. She loves books, this one especially and I really want to surprise her. I want our first anniversary to be special, like she is. She's not just my wife, she's my best friend too and I really want an amazing gift for her."

Aziraphale immediately thought back to a small, dimly lit pub. His ghost-like being seated across from a certain demon. _I lost my best friend_. The angel's eyes went a little wide. _He_ was the best friend the demon had been talking about. Crowley would have teased him something fierce if he had been around at the moment for not realizing all this sooner. Luckily for Aziraphale, the demon had other plans for his afternoon. He thought more about what the customer had said, about his wife being his best friend. Aziraphale supposed it only made sense that someone truly in love would think of their life partner as their best friend. And maybe that someone could, after a some time, develop certain... feelings for their best friend.

Aziraphale smiled softly at the customer and patted his shoulder. "Well, I suppose for someone so in love, on his first anniversary, I could part with it."

The man thanked Aziraphale profusely and followed him to the register.

Aziraphale sighed deeply as he watched the man exit his book shop. He had finally figured out that Crowley had in fact been talking about him that day at the pub, but he still wasn't sure what exactly it meant. Had Crowley meant the angel was his best friend or his _best friend_? His chest felt odd, like his heart was racing. He was rather sure now, after all these years, after the apocalypse they'd stymied, after the punishments they'd evaded, that he thought of Crowley as his _best friend_.

Aziraphale flipped the shop sign to 'closed' and headed for the back kitchenette. He could think things over more clearly with a good cup of cocoa.

* * *

Crowley flicked at some pollen that had drifted onto his knee and glanced discreetly around the park. He hadn't been able to reach Aziraphale for the last two days, and he wasn't sure why. The first two or three times he didn't pick up, Crowley had thought maybe he'd just popped out for a long lunch. When he couldn't get a hold of the angel for a whole twenty four hours he began to worry. He thought back over the last century or so, trying to recall if he'd done anything that would have _truly_ offended Aziraphale.

There had of course been the whole business at the band stand, the talk of alpha centauri, the devastated look on Aziraphale's face when Crowley had walked away, but he'd thought surely they'd moved past that. They'd prevented the end of the world, they'd dined at the Ritz, they'd _swapped bodies to save each other_. But now Aziraphale wasn't taking his calls for some reason.

So he'd wandered out to the park, the day was just annoyingly perfect enough that Aziraphale was sure to be out to at least feed the ducks at some point. He'd never admit just how long he'd waited at the park, but he was resolved to talk to his friend. A rose colored sunset was just blooming across the sky, of course, when Crowley finally spotted him. He was lackadaisically tossing crumbs to the ducks, a pensive frown etched deep on his face.

Crowley leaned forward and watched as the angel tossed his last bread crumbs to the ducks and brushed his hands together. He rose from his park bench and sauntered silently over to where Aziraphale stood. "Run out of crumbs?" he rasped near the angel's ear.

Aziraphale jumped. "Crowley!" He looked genuinely surprised to see the demon. "What are you doing here?"

Crowley stared ahead at the calm water. "Got bored, thought I'd come to the park and try to tempt the ducks to do Satan's bidding."

Aziraphale's mouth dropped open in shock, a protest forming on his lips.

"I couldn't get a hold of you and I figured you'd come here," Crowley admitted quietly.

Aziraphale stared down at his shoes. "You could have come to the book shop," he mumbled.

"I thought maybe you were... angry with me and I didn't want to bother you." Crowley pushed his sunglasses up on his nose, thankful they hid the concern in his eyes.

"Angry with you? Whatever for?" Aziraphale looked at Crowley in shock.

"Don't know, lot's happened in the last few weeks," Crowley shrugged.

Aziraphale shook his head rapidly. "Nothing that would make me angry with you."

"Then why were you ignoring me?" Crowley would deny for the next six thousand years that he had been pouting at that point.

Aziraphale turned his whole body to face Crowley and looked him in the eye. "I... I sold a book the other day." Crowley stared silently at him. Aziraphale cleared his throat and continued. "I sold a book to a man. For his wife. For their anniversary." He didn't know how to go on, how to explain that he'd spent the last two days contemplating his feelings for the demon. He wished Crowley would just _get it_. Crowley furrowed his brow, a confused jumble of sounds came from his lips. He obviously wasn't getting it.

The sky was getting darker, casting the whole park in a dark coral shade. It felt so much more intimate than it had that afternoon when Crowley had sprawled himself out on a park bench and decided to wait the angel out. Aziraphale looked so soft and confused, and just a little tormented under the immaculate sunset and Crowley wished he'd just spit out whatever it was he was trying to say before the stars came out and wrapped them up in the darkness together.

"You have lots of books," Crowley pointed out simply.

Aziraphale shook his head again. "It wasn't the book it was... the man said his wife was his best friend." He swallowed thickly and waited. Crowley was silent. "It made me think of you." He blushed and wiped his palms down the sides of his jacket. "When you were at that pub, after you thought I'd been, well... you said you'd lost your _best friend_  and I just..." he gestured vaguely between the two of them. "I realized you meant me! And I thought about how there could be so many different connotations to being _best friends_  and how sad you'd seemed when you thought I was gone and how sad I'd be if _you_ were ever gone and --"

Crowley stepped closer to Aziraphale and the angel drew in a shaky breath. Crowley glanced around the park and noticed that they were very much alone. He removed his sunglasses and met Aziraphale's gaze unimpeded. "I was devastated when I thought I'd lost you."

Aziraphale's eyes stung. He reached out and gently clasped Crowley's hand in his own. "You're my best friend, Crowley. My _best friend_ ," he whispered.

Crowley clasped Aziraphale's hand tighter. "I thought I went too fast for you," he murmured, his words barely audible

"I think I finally learned how to go a bit faster." Aziraphale's voice was shaky, eyes soft and hopeful.

"Come back to my place," Crowley suggested through a gentle smile.

"I said a _bit_ faster, my dear."

Crowley stepped fully into the angel's space and straightened out his bow tie. "We could just sleep, angel."

Aziraphale felt like his stomach was doing cartwheels. He let go of Crowley's hand and the demon's face fell. Aziraphale quickly linked their arms together. "We should get going before it gets dark out then." He looked everywhere but Crowley's face.

Crowley beamed. "All right." He lead them off in the direction of his apartment.

* * *

The walk to Crowley's apartment had been silent, but pleasant. Both he and Aziraphale had been too nervous to speak, drawing on false confidence to propel them forward through the city. By the time they'd reached Crowley's apartment the sun had fully set and the moon was shining down brightly, painting everything with a cool, silver hue. Aziraphale looked out the windows in Crowley's room, down onto the quiet street below. He silently gave thanks to no one in particular for the incredible privacy he and Crowley had won since the apocalypse that wasn't.

He turned from the window and looked around the demon's room. There was a large bed in the middle of the room and not much else in the way of furniture. Crowley sat down on the edge of his bed and removed his shoes, tossed them into the corner. Then he began removing his clothes. The sound of the zipper on his jeans being undone startled Aziraphale. His eyes went wide and he let out a shocked little sound as he stared ahead at Crowley. He'd stripped off his jacket and t-shirt and was now wrestling his black jeans off his long, lean legs.

"I... I thought we were just sleeping," Aziraphale sputtered.

Crowley tossed his jeans in the corner, on top of all his other clothes. "We are," he said simply. He gently placed his sunglasses on a nightstand. "It's nicer when you're comfortable." He stood in his black boxers and tank top and watched the angel carefully. "We don't have to --"

"No! No. I... I want to." Aziraphale smiled nervously as he loosened his bow tie. He'd never been overly fond of sleeping, but maybe it was like a lot of the other things he'd encountered in his time on earth. More enjoyable with his best friend. He placed his bow tie on the nightstand next to Crowley's sunglasses and then toed his shoes off.

Crowley flopped back on his mattress and watched intently as Aziraphale put his shoes against the wall and carefully removed his jacket. He folded it neatly and set it next to the demon's pile of clothes. He seemed a little hesitant as he unbuttoned his vest, but it too eventually came off and found its way to the floor. At last, the angel lowered himself down onto the mattress. Crowley lifted his arm and waited. Aziraphale scooted across the satin sheets and settled in next to Crowley, resting his head lightly on the demon's chest as his arm came down to rest over Aziraphale.

"Couldn't lose the pants?" Crowley smiled slyly as he looked down at Aziraphale.

"Not just yet," Aziraphale admitted. He fidgeted a bit and scooted his legs closer to Crowley.

"S'okay. Just relax, angel."

Aziraphale sighed and finally let his body fully relax, nestled his head in closer to Crowley's neck. He ran a hand experimentally down Crowley's chest. "I rather like this bit," he murmured as he stroked at the smattering of hairs on the demon's chest that peeked over the top of his tank top.

Crowley hummed contentedly. He pulled Aziraphale closer and pressed his face into the angel's hair. "I'm glad you sold that book," he chuckled softly.

Aziraphale backed up a bit and raised his head so he could look Crowley in the eyes. "I'm sorry you thought I was mad at you," he blushed. "I don't think I could ever get mad at you now."

Crowley raised his eyebrows. "Wanna bet?" he laughed.

Aziraphale swatted him lightly on the chest. Crowley laughed harder. "I love you, Crowley. I'm sorry it took me so long to catch up." Aziraphale's eyes were watery, his heart beating so loud he was sure Crowley could hear it. He couldn't believe he'd finally made it _here_.

Crowley ran his fingers through Aziraphale's hair. "I love you too, _best friend_." He stared into the angel's eyes seriously, soft smile tugging at his lips.

Aziraphale's blush deepened and he lowered himself down once more against Crowley's side. He nestled his face in the crook of Crowley's neck and let his eyes slip closed. Before long they'd both fallen into a peaceful sleep.

Aziraphale woke sometime later, warm and content and thought only one thing. He'd been right. Sleeping _was_ better with his best friend. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So this is fluffy nonsense and probably incoherent because I have been incoherent and overwhelmed and an emotional wreck since I watched Good Omens.
> 
> kudos and comments make my day ♥


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